Players Play A Little Game
by Leni
Summary: A 20-years-old Buffy meets a blond man at her workplace... just to have him introduce her a dark-haired man... B/A (duh!), D/S with B/S undertones. Spike-friendly!


TITLE: 'Players Play A Little Game' or 'Of How Buffy Met Angel'  
AUTHOR: Leni   
DISCLAIMER: I just own the way Buffy and Angel are united here.  
DISTRIBUTION: Oh yes! You have an AU and/or B/A archive? Please take it!   
TIMELINE: Completely AU. Buffy is 20, Angel is 24, and Spike and Dru are 26.  
SUMMARY: AU. 20-year-old Buffy meets a nice blond man at her workplace... just to have him present a dark-haired man some weeks later...  
PAIRINGS: Begins with B/S... And is friendly with Spike all the way (Sorry, I can't find it in myself to bash my lovely vamp.) Ends with B/A (duh!) and D/S  
RATING: Oh well, much to my disappointment, this won't be NC-17. :'( A R-rating will have to suffice.  
DEDICATION: To Daniel and Miguel. Because they already know what 'listening to Aracelli (that'd be me) rant about Joss and unfair life and school, all in one session' is. Thanks, guys!!! *smooches* Even if you'd better never read this story because I don't know how you'll take that little Ara isn't as innocent as she appears to be... ^_^;;  
AN: Yeah, I know I should be working on HM,WR. But, to tell you the truth, as I didn't get that much feedback for the last chapter I posted, I decided to see where *this* little plot would take me. But don't worry, I'm working on HM,WR 2c... I just felt I had to do this first.  
FEEDBACK: OH PLEASE!!!!!!!!!! dani_vasq@hotmail.com ,   
a_d_v_v@yahoo.com.ar  
  
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All began half a year ago. Spike introduced us. At first I thought he would be the third wheel in our date, I should have known Spike better.  
  
You know, I was in a pretty bad mood in those days. Nothing to do with Spike, you mind. On the contrary, he was my venting valve. My blonde, sexy and sensual venting valve. I would go to his apartment just after mom gave this huge daily lecture about 'Buffy never going to do anything useful out of her life' or about 'Buffy not being able to do ONE thing right'. Yes, my mom and I tend to have these 'little' and 'inconsequential' fights. And yes, she is right in some things but... Try and have her as your mom and see if you can maintain a levelled head when she is opening her mouth...  
  
But I wasn't talking about mom. And I doubt you're here to hear about her.  
  
As I said, Spike presented us. He had told me to go out just two hours ago. I was surprised to say the least. Spike and I didn't go out. Not a lot, anyway. We made a lot of things but 'dates' weren't usually part of them.  
  
So tell me, if the fuckable player of your non-boyfriend presents another guy, well... how can't you think that this new guy isn't *another* fuckable player?  
  
Ok, maybe it's time I present myself. Name is Buffy, 20 years old, working as waitress in a restaurant you *don't* want to visit and trying to save enough to begin renting my own apartment. Some years ago I still was the goody-goody girl on this side of the city. Oh, I live in LA, by the way and it *is* possible to be a good girl here, believe it or not. But, anyway, your opinion wouldn't matter because I killed that girl some good years ago. Just after my Daddy died if you want to be precise. Fatal stroke in some cheap hotel on top of some whore... enough to get the story to the lowliest newspapers and put my mom on edge for the rest of her life...  
  
Regretfully, I'm part of that edgy life of hers and I'm the daughter of that 'son of a bitch who wasn't even decent enough to die in his own bed.' From the way she talks, sometimes I believe that she'd have preferred for Daddy to bring his girl home. I wouldn't have minded...  
  
And there I went speaking about mom again. But I think you need to know about her, if only to understand how I ended up in that seedy restaurant and how I met Spike and *why* I went out with him.   
  
I wanted to become a psychologist, you know? I liked to work with people. Maybe I would have actually helped someone! Of course, it was not to be. Daddy died and suddenly only Mum was working at the gallery and earning just enough to keep the house and the bills and us. Transition time was not smooth, I'm telling you. And, just some weeks after the funeral, Mum began buying less yoghurt and more vodka. I guess vodka doesn't have any calories, that's what I tried to tell myself, anyway; right until mom awoke me one early dawn and began lecturing me with a drunken slur... The next week I began working. Anything to keep myself out of home.  
  
That's how I met Spike.  
  
He was one of my customers, always with a girl hanging from his arm. A different one every week, of course. I frowned when I saw a girl who came with him every two weeks or so. By that time I knew him enough to understand his M.O. He met a girl somewhere, got her to bed, if she was good then he called her during the next week, brought her to my working-place and then back to bed. Girls never lasted more than two weeks, I knew that too, and they never came back with him (even if some returned just to watch him entertaining another girl.) That's why I frowned when I saw the dark-haired woman coming back once and twice and more every month.  
  
Who would've known that I would get her place?  
  
It all began when he began to come alone. He talked to me. He was - is - a smooth talker. And I wanted him enough to let him smooth-talk me. No, don't begin frowning at me, people. I dare you, girls, to see that HOT man with every girl in the city but you and not wonder what the hell they saw in him!   
  
But, well... I admit it, three years ago I would have never wanted to know it. He was a player, that was obvious. One needed to be blind and deaf to not to notice it. But, well... I had been without a boyfriend for two whole years. Not even a single date. Riley made sure that none of my friends would be interested in me. Now I wonder what he told them, that I was easy to get to bed? No, I doubt it, were it the case then all boys would have come running to me. So, that option is discarded. Maybe he told them that I was bad in bed. Or that I had syphilis. Naah, syphilis wouldn't have worked. All the girls would've supposed that he was infected, too. Now you'll ask why my ex-boyfriend would say such things about me and why the hell wouldn't I stop him (and kick him in the groin for my problems.)  
  
Easy. First, I broke up with him. Riley treated me as his fuck-toy and I finally got tired of it. He was even worse than Spike; at least he does take his dates on a date before the second round of fucking. Not that Riley and I didn't get on dates; he even used to be romantic. Picnics and strolls under the moonlight and he liked the beach just as much as I. He forgot about that 'romanticism' just after he got me to bed. Maybe he decided that ants and seaweed were too much a problem, I really don't care anymore.  
  
So there I was, all lonely and with the oh-so-nice prospect of an inebriated mother back at home. Can you really blame me for accepting when Spike asked me out? I needed something apart from my so-called family, my so-called job and my so-called life. Dreams and hopes be damned, Spike was right there at the right moment and I took him. Or he took me. Whatever.  
  
I think Spike liked - likes - me. I was expecting his dumping but, even if he didn't call for one or even two weeks, he always came back to me. And I always welcomed him. He was not romantic, no... William Spencer wouldn't be caught dead being romantic. With him it was sex at the beach, blowjobs in his car and mind-blowing heavy petting wherever we were.   
  
Of course I knew he was going out with someone else in those one or two weeks of silence. Did I care? Only a little. Especially when I thought what kind of future I would have with him. But, what does the future mean when you have lips such as his between your legs? Yeah, he's great in bed, and I had learned more about sex by our second 'date' than I had in those three months with Riley. Now, when I think about Riley only one word comes to mind: Boring.   
  
But Spike was not boring. For every date he had a surprise, for example: one time he brought me to this splendid (and fairly expensive) Chinese restaurant. The next time, three days later, he introduced me to the wonders of a Dildo. Yeah, surprises are what he is best for.  
  
So, when he presented me Angel I was really surprised. From the looks he was giving me I understood immediately that he wanted to form a threesome. Now I ask you, giving that background, would *you* have labelled Angel as anything but another fuckable player? I sure didn't. But I didn't follow Spike this time, if he wanted a threesome then he still had to find the necessary girl. I guess he caught my negative because he left me at home after some hours of fooling around.   
  
Now, if you asked me what I had gathered about Angel in those hours... well, it wasn't much. He was a little younger than Spike but he was much taller. Angel told me they were cousins, I didn't believe a word. I mean: Spike was blond (okay, bleached blond but anyway, his hair was really light, *very* light brown), Angel was dark, *very* dark-haired. Spike had green eyes, Angel's were brown. Spike was pale; Angel didn't need a tan... Too many differences to let them be close family.  
  
Maybe I was right or maybe I was wrong about that, I never knew it for certain. What I know is that Angel called me two weeks afterwards and asked me to go watch some videos. I remember thinking that it was the lamest excuse I had ever heard. I mean, videos? Every girl older than 12 knows what it really means! I accepted. Spike hadn't called me in all that time and I had seen him with another blonde woman in the restaurant across the street twice. (One point for him: he *never* brought one of his 'friends' to work)  
  
So yes, I accepted Angel's offer. Some sex couldn't hurt, could it? And he looked as if he was good in that activity. In fact, were it not for Spike's presence in the car that night, I would have been drooling all the while. He was drool-worthy, all right. Not in the same sense that Spike, but... god! I'm rambling.  
  
I had expected everything: from Angel opening the door clad only in his boxers (yummy!) to Spike and he waiting for me in the living room just to give me another opportunity to join them... Not to mention the part where I thought that it had been only a prank-call to see how I reacted. Yes, I have an overactive imagination. What I had *never* thought, anyway, was that I would find Angel fully dressed waiting with a popcorn bowl and a stack of films. If I must be truthful, I was disappointed.  
  
Now you'll say I was crazy and boarding on the slutty part of town. Hadn't I enough with Spike? Yes, yes and yes. But, Spike had his fun every time he wasn't with me. And, truly said, I was beginning to tire of waiting for his call. I mean, mistress-like much? So, even as I saw the films and the TV set... I was already planning something. Maybe it would backfire and Angel would be totally disgusted by my wanton behaviour...  
  
...It didn't happen.  
  
It was a horror film, I think. With Angel telling me in-between that Spike had given him my number and that he was feeling lonely enough to risk a telling-off. I was too busy looking for the best moment to start. It came in the form of a howling sound and a girl screaming, I purposely screamed too and hid in his chest... Hey! I never said that it was an original idea! But, as dark-haired heroes should, he just protected me and put his arms around me while the girl screamed on the screen. "You can watch now," he finally told me gently and amused. He began to disentangle his arms from my shoulders; I was quicker and put my head on his shoulder, peeking at the horrendous film from my newest perch.   
  
He looked down at me curiously and then smirked knowingly. I just smirked back and furrowed deeper. Minutes passed and I didn't find the courage to get to phase two. That's when I felt Angel's fingers playing with the strap of my shirt. It was gentle, it was careful; it could have passed off as simple, friendly games... But I wasn't interested in 'friendly' and we both knew it. I kissed his neck, just some pecks up and down his neck and upper chest and chin to let him wonder about the rest. He didn't wonder for a long time.   
  
Before I knew it, we were in his bedroom playing like little children. Not that children would ever play like that. I soon discovered that Angel was different from my other two lovers. Riley and even Spike were all about sex... I mean, Spike sure was sweet and everything but once we were in bed (or his backseat or on the grass) everything he cared about was to be inside me and make us climax. I won't even get started with Riley, *I* wasn't even part of his worries. With Angel, well... I first thought it was because it was our first time together. But no, I had also have first times with Riley and Spike and they never spent so much time just playing with my body, not even with Riley and his was my very first time. Then I thought that maybe he was indecisive because, after all, I still was Spike's favourite...  
  
We spent like half an hour in bed before he entered me. Best half-hour spent in preliminaries... in fact, only half-hour spent in preliminaries. Spike... I liked him but to him five minutes of petting in bed were enough... and until now I had known too little to know better.  
  
I remember specially that, when we were finished and he was still nipping my neck and caressing my stomach, I asked him how we finished here. It was meant as a playful question, just something to chase the silence away.  
  
His answer was serious: "I don't know," he laughed, "I had just planned on some videos and coke."  
  
I didn't laugh. I practically panicked. Hell! I had thought the whole while that he wanted the same as me. Just some meaningless sex to fill the afternoon. But no. He *really* had wanted to spend some nice time with me. I felt like a slut.  
  
Not that I hadn't noticed that he didn't say 'stop' when we began fooling around in his living room. But... he wasn't the one who had begun it.   
  
Slut. Slut. Slut.  
  
"Are you always this..." he paused as if searching for the right word.  
  
"Easy?" I supplied bitterly.  
  
He looked surprised and I breathed again when he shook his head "No." He looked at me and smiled, "I don't think you're easy." I huffed disbelieving. I had initiated this all and I wasn't easy? Oh please!   
  
He continued caressing my shoulder blades and my chest, circling around my nipples until I gasped. "I don't think you're easy," he murmured against my neck, "just a nice friend who likes to spend nice afternoons." Great. Now I was 'nice'. I was about to retort when his hands began moving over me again. God! Angel had a good memory, just a few hours with him and he knew more or less what he should do. Not like some blond ex-boyfriend I won't mention. Even Spike needed some nights with me to learn my body... When Angel kissed me fully on the lips again and reached down between my legs... it was so... different.   
  
It felt as if he *cared*...  
  
... anyway, I didn't let those mushy feelings get to me and just thought what the hell! If I had already ruined the nice video-feast he had planned for us, then I should as well enjoy it.  
  
I enjoyed it the whole afternoon. Angel got me back home at midnight in his motorcycle. Thank God mom had already passed out or I would have got a biiiig lecture... again.  
  
Two days later we managed to watch the whole film before reaching the bed. Don't ask me what it was about, I was too busy kissing and licking and nipping his chest to understand the plot. Hey! I said that we *reached* the bed after the film ended, not that we were paying attention to it meanwhile!  
  
I don't know exactly how or when Spike got to know about Angel and me. I noticed he knew about us (it wasn't that difficult...) when he asked right away who was better in bed. He kept grinning even when I didn't answer him. Then he just said something about there being chicks like me and chicks who liked *The Big Bad Spike* better. I giggled at the self-given nickname and kept kissing him. As result of that exchange I learned that I was not the first girl the 'cousins' had shared.   
  
And no, it wasn't as if I wasn't double-dating them. Well, I *was* double-dating them, but both knew it. Else, it was *impossible* to tell either 'no'. Try it, I dare you. Have a blonde, handsome specimen at your doorstep promising you wild, mind-numbing sex in the woods (it was as close to a picnic as Spike could ever think of) or a tall, irresistible dark man telling you with a look all the wonderful things he could do to your body and, with his words, describing the perfect scenery in a room full of candles... Just impossible to say nay...  
  
Spike tried many times to 'solve' our problems... he asked me repeatedly if I didn't want to have a threesome with them and have "double the attention". I let the new me answer him: "And do double the work? I'm not that dumb, Spike." He shrugged and kissed a long, slow path downwards while I shut my eyes when a car passed us. We should really stop having sex in his backseat at one side of the way... Only... I really didn't want to stop.  
  
Angel was different. He nearly bordered on the romantic scene and, if he had girls in the meanwhile, he showed no sign of it. (Unlike Spike who had bags under his eyes and had always a different pack of condoms even when we had just began the former one the last time we were together.) Of course, that wasn't to say that Angel didn't like to play rough and dangerous sometimes. I still remember vividly when he took me to a disco. We danced the whole night and, when we were finally too tired began our way home. We found this little, abandoned park and I asked him to make a stop, my feet hurt horribly. Damn high heels! Anyway, I was just resting my poor feet when Angel began kissing my neck. Needless to say, soon we were engaged in some heavy petting, then there was some oral sex and before I was fully aware of it, I was comfortably settled above him and having the time of my life...  
  
Sure, with Spike I had made it at the beach and his car... but *never* in a little suburban park, in the middle of suburban houses... all with doors and windows and suburban people within... since then, every time we go out there's always a heavy make-out session in a disclosed - but still public enough - place. I still remember that time in the changing-dresser of this boutique when that woman and her little daughter opened the curtain just to find Angel and me locked in a passionate embrace with our tongues in each other's mouths. The woman shrieked, the girl giggled and we run out of the shop in a laughing fit.   
  
It was funny.  
  
What Spike and I lacked, Angel and I did have. Not that Spike wasn't fantastic. He was, don't even doubt it. But sometimes he could be so immature. Not that Angel was Mr. Responsibility, you know, but... Women have a special instinct, and mine told me that Angel could do much more than what he did now.  
  
I broke it off with Spike six months, two weeks and three days after knowing his bed intimately, exactly two months, three weeks and five days after meeting Angel in Spike's car. It was sudden (for both of us), swift and painless. A simple "Don't call me unless it's something serious and important." and my relationship with my blonde lover was over. Yes, it was sudden for me too. I had just spent a whole week wondering if I was pregnant and, when I woke up in the middle of the night with blood between my thighs, I understood that the whole week I had been praying for the baby to be Angel's. Angel wasn't prepared for it, I wasn't either, and his family would think that I did it on purpose but... while I knew that Angel would freak and undergo a serious denial process just to accept it afterwards, I also was sure that Spike would only freak and go to the nearest bar and try to forget I ever existed. And I knew my two lovers well enough to know that my feelings were right.  
  
So I broke up with Spike. A week later he came back to my workplace with a fake redhead in his arm. He looked at me and smiled friendly, I understood. We weren't together and he would come back to his favourite hangout with his 'dates', I smiled back and told him with that that he was welcomed, I had nothing against him.  
  
Spike still calls me, it isn't serious or important but he isn't looking for a date either. He just...talks. About himself, about his dates and mainly about that dark-haired whose name I finally know: Drusilla. Spike told me that he knows her since high school. They even were sweethearts but discovered that they couldn't be together for a long time. Of course, they did the most logical thing. They separated, found other sweethearts and came back to each other when they got bored. I nearly went back to him when he confessed that he had only seen Drusilla twice while we were 'together': Once when he discovered that I was sleeping with Angel, and the other one when he decided that it didn't matter a bit and that Drusilla needed to know that he wouldn't come back to her again. "What will you do now about her?" I asked worriedly. Worry for *Spike* and some girl he slept with while being with me? Maybe I was crazy, but he was obviously in love with Drusilla, much more in love than he ever believed to be with me. I could only step back and worry.  
  
The poor Spike didn't answer. He was much too proud to go back to her after stating that he wouldn't do it anymore.  
  
The solution came two weeks later with Drusilla calling *me* and asking if it was truth that I wasn't with Spike anymore. Wow, gossip does travel fast in L.A. Three days later Spike told me elatedly that Dru had called him and invited him on a date 'strictly as friends'. From Spike's tone of voice I knew that they wouldn't stay as friends for a long time. I only hoped they would stay together this time. Both of them had learned how life went without the other but Drusilla's call and Spike's agreement told me that they didn't like that kind of life.  
  
And what about Angel and me?   
  
Well, with time we learned that there was more than sex between us. Of course, that doesn't mean that we don't enjoy a good time in his bed, my kitchen, dark alleys and on his bike... but... now we also enjoy just some time together without sex. At first it was because I took refuge in his home (away from Mommy Dearest) at odd times. Meaning: he wasn't alone at home. We couldn't well have sex in his room with his parents downstairs and his little sister in the room next to his. I still think they sent the poor girl there on purpose! The first time I met his family I was nervous. His dad didn't like me at first, he believed me to be one more of his son's infamous 'girls'. Well, technically I *was* one of them but... at the same time, I was not. Between Angel and I, well... first we were friends and *then* we were lovers. At least it went that way by the time I met his parents... even if we spent more time as lovers, that is.   
  
Being Spike's friend wasn't my best card, either. Angel's parents didn't like the blonde guy very much. His mother just told me that he was 'a wild young man'; Angel's dad was more specific and told me that Spike would 'kill himself one of these days'. Little Cordelia made dreamy eyes and told me that 'Spiky is too cute to be too bad'. I saw a crush developing there, I tell you. I nearly laughed when I pictured Spike knowing that Cordelia had a crush on him. Hell! 'Little Cordy' was like a sister for him!  
  
But I was talking about Angel's family and me. At first they distrusted me. But, as weeks passed and I still went regularly to visit, they decided that I had to be THE serious girlfriend. I could practically see Claire's relief (Every time I said 'Mrs. Connor' she told me to call her 'Claire!) and Mr. Connor's (not the same luck, I guess) thoughts going like 'At last that boy can do something right! I wonder what he would have thought knowing that I was sleeping with him *and* with Spike at the time and that both of them knew it... I shudder just thinking of it. Mr. Connor is far too serious and stern to understand such a thing...  
  
...Not that I understand it, either.  
  
But Spike isn't part of my life anymore. At least not in the sex-department. There are only Angel and I. I want to keep it that way but... a girl does not ask her lover to be her boyfriend, does she? Supposedly, it's the boy who must take the first step. If only the boy wasn't too busy drooling on my shoulder!  
  
Yes, eewwww... I shake my head. This *must* be love or I would be shaking him awake and telling him to clean me. But he is so cute when he's sleeping!  
  
We're at my home. My mom has gone to a sister-gallery in New York and will be gone for a whole week. I still am wondering what is happening to her. She had been in these L.A.-N.Y.-L.A. flights for one month now and she practically can't wait till she has to go again. I wonder if it has something to do with that silly grin I surprised her with when I told her that Mr. Giles, from the New Yorker gallery, had been asking for her. I hope it's so. The vodka and white wine bottles are getting scarcer and mom was actually civil when she met Angel. Not that she knows of the things that we do in her living room while she's gone, she'd probably change the whole furniture...!  
  
"Hi, honey," Angel greets me.  
  
Honey. I like the sound of it. The pet name is new, just one week old. He called me that the morning after our double date with Spike and Drusilla. Yes, it was awkward. No, it wasn't that bad. And, if Spike wanted us to know his ex (soon to be again, I'm sure of it!) girlfriend, then that's the least we could do for him, wasn't it?   
  
After all, if hadn't presented us in that date six months ago, I probably wouldn't be kissing Angel right now and he wouldn't be saying that he loves me...  
  
WHAT?!  
  
WAIT!  
  
"Y-you..." He is staring at me with those brown eyes. Damn him! "You lo-l-lov-ve m-me?"  
  
He just kisses me.  
  
Oh well, I think as Angel brings my body into his arms, Mom is beginning a new (and alcohol-less) life, I have the entire house for myself, I'm feeling happy, Angel just told me he loves me...   
  
...Life is perfect...  
  
...If only I could find a new job!  
  
THE END.  
  
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